He picked it up and studied it carefully by the light of the lantern.
"No," he said, slowly, "it isn't that. G—g, double o—gooseberries—that's what it is—a can of gooseberries we got at Valentine."
"And this is a paper bag of sugar," I said, picking it up. "No gout to-night!"
I cut open the can and poured in the sugar. We stirred it up with a stick, and Ollie drank a third of it and I the rest. Then we crawled under the wagon, covered ourselves with the pony's saddle-blanket, and went to sleep. But before we did so I said:
"Ollie, at the next town I am going to get you a cook-book, and we'll be independent of that wretch in the wagon."
"All right," answered Ollie.
[to be continued.]
